I WAS a crystal pool. My source, the melting heart of feathery snowflakes, which fell on lofty peaks, whose heads nestled ’midst cloud-like pillows. So pure was I, my limpid waters mirrored the passage of each feathered songster that soared above me, or dipped its wings within my cleansing waters. Tall and queenly were the trees that fringed my borders, while dainty mosses and graceful vines caressed my water’s edge.

So joyous was I, when first I nestled there, until, while viewing my beauteous environment, I became; then long I cast my admiring glances within the bosom of my own loveliness.

I noted no more the beauty of the passing cloud, which now I could reflect but dimly; then did I say, “I have become exclusive,” thinking this was an added luster to my already superior beauty. Knowing not, alas, that it was the thickening scum of my own stagnation. Then for an instant did I raise my glance above the surface of my waters, and did note, with a shudder, that my form was shrinking. But with haughtiness, I cried, “My waters, at least, have not been wasted on common dust.”

Thus was I, when a mighty storm came, and lashed and beat upon me, as it swept across my borders; the rain descended in torrents o’er the towering peaks above me. Lightning leaped madly from the heavens, and as floods came pouring in, I cried with terror, “Now is the hour of my destruction come!”

So it was with the pool, but in that death was a streamlet born. The force of the pure flood waters had swept away the barriers which confined me. Downward was I dashed and hurled, all powerless to stay the law that sped me onward. Soon I reached the dry valley below, where I must needs feed myself, away to barren earth and stunted vegetation. But soon the gracious earth again fringed my borders with magic beauty; from the staunch golden-rod, to dainty sweet-cupped lilies, fair blossoms sprang up from beds of fern, to greet me with their